A Year Ago

I was in a pandemic.

I was sad.

I was all alone.

I took off on my bike, to ride half-way across the country.

A year ago, I was in Iowa fighting wind, a plague of moths, spokes breaking, a sore butt.

I was lost. A lot.

Thirsty, dehydrated.

Caught in the rain.

Climbing in my lowest chain gear.

Meeting a Welshman in the middle of nowhere.

Trying to figure out where I was—metaphysically, existentially, in a time/space continuum.

I was eating breakfast sandwiches from Casey’s, Italian subs from Subway, ravioli from a can.

I was looking for food after miles of nothing.

I was talking a park manager into letting me camp as Covid had shut down everything.

Basically I was living for miles and begging for a place to rest at night.

 

Fast forward.

 

I have a grandson, a new address, and 2 published essays from last year’s travels (the latest accept by The Account—stay tuned on when it will be available.)